I suddenly stood up, not knowing where I was. The walls were lined with a pale shade of blue-green. The floor was carpeted in a very intricate pattern of flowers and birds. Allaround me, the furniture was painted in white. The chairs were foamed. It seemed thatthey were all antiques. Old styles. And yet, they all looked new.I ran to the nearest door.It was the bathroom. But it wasn’t like any bathroom. Not like
, anyway. Not like
I had ever seen. But then, those little details paled to insignificance when I saw theimage of myself in the mirror.I was not
.I looked the same, yes. But I knew that this was not Bella Swan.
was not Bella Swan. Inmy mind, I was thinking like Bella Swan. But physically, this was not me. I lookedexactly like a character in a Historical novel.My hair was short and wavy. Dark-brown just like I remembered having. My face, stillheart-shaped. My eyes, still that chocolate-brown shade. But then, I knew within the coreof my being that I was Bella Swan, but then, this girl in the mirror, this stranger. Shelooked exactly like me. Not like we just happened to have the same color eyes. But like,exactly the same eyes. Exactly the same face.A loud knock brought me out of my reverie.“Miss. Isabelle?” the woman said. “Miss. Isabelle, are you in there?”Isabelle?I’m not Isabelle. My name is Isabella Swan. I’m Bella.I just knew that I have never heard that voice. Or that name. That was why it was sostrange when I heard myself say, “Yes, Mrs. Potts. I’ll be out in a minute.”Somehow, I knew that she
Mrs. Potts. I knew that she had raised me since I was four.